


Talk Dirty To Me

by historiologies



Series: love me like you do [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, They are married, and um reading through oral sex, married and slightly kinky, right uhhhhh so there's very mild orgasm denial, that's basically it, the vanilla reference is an homage to orphan_account bless their soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/pseuds/historiologies
Summary: “But you’re so sexy when you’re being a nerd,” Soonyoung says this directly into his ear, and seriously, he has no regard for Wonwoo’s academic endeavors, what with the way he’s toying with the end of Wonwoo’s shirt just so.(The One Where Wonwoo Has To Read)





	Talk Dirty To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of fluffy? Smutty fluff. Still in line with the SWN Fluff Fest, I suppose :))
> 
> Incidentally, I took the title from one of the songs mentioned by my dear friend Amber/ao3 uza in her karaoke bartender Wonwoo and cute enamored Soonyoung fic that she JUST posted [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11857680). I'm sorry I couldn't move on from this title and that I filched it from part of your fic. ILU <3
> 
> This prompt was based on a suggestion by the person behind orphan_account who shall remain nameless. This one is for all of you in the NSFW SWN GC. You all know who you are :-) love you heathens.

It starts out, as things do, quite innocuously enough.

Wonwoo is reclining on their couch by the window, the rattan one with the softest cushions ever that Soonyoung has taken to calling their window seat but is actually… not that. Still, it’s a pleasant place to relax in, and Wonwoo is doing just that, spine comfortably supported against the pillows on this Sunday afternoon, mind absorbed in the latest book he’s reading--a non-fiction book on counterfactual history that really sounds more interesting than it sounds, shut up Soonyoung--and a cup of coffee within easy reach. Soonyoung was off having a late lunch with Seokmin and Seungkwan, planning their next big group get-together. Wonwoo thought about accompanying him, but the slight headache he nursed in the late morning dissuaded him, and Soonyoung didn’t push for him to do so, leaving him with a soft forehead kiss and promises of bringing home a cupcake.

He’s on the third essay (“what if Julius Caesar hadn’t been assassinated?”) when he hears the quiet slick of the key sliding into the doorknob. His ears prick up, and Wonwoo wryly thinks to himself that it appears that he’s a very well trained puppy when it comes to Soonyoung. 

He’ll never tell him that though.

He doesn’t look up when the door opens--he sees Soonyoung step through the front door peripherally, tossing his keys haphazardly and shrugging out of his jacket--only humming softly when Soonyoung pads up to him in his socked feet.

He looks up when he hears a soft crinkling paper sound, into Soonyoung’s smiling face. “What did you get?”

“Banana muffins. They were all out of your favorite chocolate cupcakes.”

Wonwoo pouts, but takes the bag anyway. He places it next to his cup of coffee, long since cooled. “That’s okay. Thank you.”

He grunts a little when Soonyoung decides to flop the upper half of his body onto his legs, watches him crawl and inch his way up until he’s lying on top of Wonwoo. His skin is warm, sun-kissed, and Wonwoo struggles to keep his face neutral when Soonyoung leans his cheek against his shoulder.

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo warns half-heartedly. Ordinarily he’d love to be distracted by his soft and incredibly adorable husband, especially when he’s warm and flush against him like this, but this essay is reaching an extremely vital point in bringing home its hypothesis and he’s frankly riveted.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Yes you are, stop.”

“But you’re so sexy when you’re being a nerd,” Soonyoung says this directly into his ear, and seriously, he has no regard for Wonwoo’s academic endeavors, what with the way he’s toying with the end of Wonwoo’s shirt just so. Wonwoo tries to suppress a shiver but his body is leaning closer to Soonyoung’s familiar body heat. Traitor, his mind thinks, but it’s not all that bitter, especially since one of Soonyoung’s legs has swung over his and he’s just started sucking on the spot behind Wonwoo’s ear that he adores so much he should just tattoo a red spot there to hide the perpetual hickey.

Wonwoo inhales sharply, and he can almost feel Soonyoung smirk against his skin, the devil. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Wonwoo retorts, his eyes still on the book, but desperately searching for the part he’d stopped at.

“It’ll get me in your pants,” Soonyoung giggles softly as he toys with the catch of Wonwoo’s pants, and Wonwoo flushes a little.

“You know we’re already married, right?”

“I know,” Soonyoung says matter-of-factly. “But stop distracting me, I’m doing my best.”

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says, his voice hitching on the second syllable because said name owner, in one swift motion, had all of a sudden straddled him. The sudden pressure on his lap made Wonwoo bite his lip from the sensation, and he bucks his hips involuntarily into Soonyoung’s, whose eyes turn a twinge darker.

“Read out loud to me, Wonwoo.”

“What?”

“Please.”

As partners, Soonyoung and Wonwoo are as close to equal as equal can get, with either giving or taking as good as the other, depending on the circumstances, but sometimes Soonyoung gets these moods, and Wonwoo indulges him because he usually ends up enjoying it all the same. It’s never been about power or control with them, but trust and a little sense of adventure.

Wonwoo eyes Soonyoung’s expression from the top of his paperback; he gazes back at him steadily, weight pinning Wonwoo down, hands bunching up at the hem of Wonwoo’s shirt.

He supposes he can let Soonyoung win this time.

Wonwoo clears his throat, and starts on page 45.

He’s about three sentences in, his melodic baritone slightly higher in pitch from concentrating so hard, when he feels soft pouty lips pressing against the spot below his belly button. He sucks in a breath, lets out a soft whimper. Bull’s eye. Soonyoung knows all his weak spots and that’s one of his worst.

“Don’t stop.” The order is muffled against Wonwoo’s skin, and Wonwoo continues with difficulty, trying to keep his voice steady as his stomach is peppered with little red marks. He can’t help biting his lip when Soonyoung starts moving downwards, can’t help the little moan when Soonyoung’s fingers trace the seam of his crotch. His eyes keep wandering off every line on the page and onto the image of Soonyoung sprawled over his legs, hands creeping up his thighs. He yelps a little when Soonyoung nips harder than before, hand palming his growing hard-on roughly through his jeans. “I mean it.”

“Fine,” Wonwoo grumbles, scowling when even his attempt to brush a hand down Soonyoung’s cheek results in him batting his fingers away. He leans back even further, the edge of the book that has become his nemesis resting on his chest, and he reads a few more lines before he hears the snap of his jeans come undone.

He barely has time to inhale before his pants are pulled all the way down, barely has time to even contemplate what’s happening before a warm mouth engulfs him and takes him in. 

He nearly drops his book. “Ah, fuck, Soonyoung,” he curses, the book lying forgotten on his chest so he could watch his husband’s head bob up and down his lap. The other looks up through his lashes, flutters them almost coquettishly as he watches Wonwoo watch him go down on him, hand wrapping around the base of him and pumping loosely.

Wonwoo hisses through the first cycle of heat in his stomach, the need and want coiling in him making him groan. Wonwoo is normally reserved, even among their closest friends, but he’s never held himself back with Soonyoung, never once tried to be anything less than his full self with the other. They started out being best friends but ended up so much more, and there’s no one Wonwoo trusts more than Soonyoung. 

Honestly, it’s not that they’re kinky (they’re quite vanilla, really), but they’re just really really into getting the other off as many times as they can.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says, and Wonwoo realizes he’d stopped going down on him. “If you’re not going to read, I’m not going to continue.”

Wonwoo’s jaw drops. “You wouldn’t.”

Soonyoung smirks, nudges the book that’s slid most of the way down his stomach back up to him. “Wanna bet?”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow, but Soonyoung blinks back at him innocently. Wonwoo knows his husband very well, and he knows he’s incredibly capable of blueballing him to prove a point. He huffs a little, before picking up his book again. He doesn’t even remember where he left off and knowing Soonyoung, he doesn’t really give a damn. He chooses a random sentence in the middle of the page, about the Rubicon or something or other, and starts to read again.

It’s a full paragraph before Soonyoung wraps his mouth around him again, and the sudden warmth and suction makes Wonwoo almost dizzy. He’s starting to sweat with the effort to keep his concentration, and his toes curl when he reaches the end of a section and Soonyoung licks long wet stripes up the length of him. Wonwoo breathes heavily through his nose, but the soft whining comes out anyway.

“Almost there, baby,” Soonyoung coos. “Come on.”

Wonwoo’s vision is definitely blurring right now. He can barely see the words on the page. “If Caesar hadn’t gone to the Pompey that day, the senators--the senators--”

He bites his lip and rides out the small crest of heat circling his groin.

“Gaius Cassius--Gaius Cassius--Longinus…”

Soonyoung moans around him and Wonwoo feels the reverberations in his very spine. “Fuck, Soonyoung, fuck.”

The other reaches around Wonwoo to rub softly up his back.

“Decimus--Junius--fuck, Soonyoung, please.”

The book is suddenly taken from his grasp and it is a testament to how far gone Wonwoo is that he doesn’t even blink when Soonyoung gently flings it across the room to the opposite armchair. Wonwoo’s hands dive into Soonyoung’s hair, pitch black as of late, and he nearly sobs from relief. 

He’s desperately trying to control himself from bucking into Soonyoung’s mouth because he knows Soonyoung doesn’t like it without any warning but he can’t help it because Soonyoung’s doing that thing that drives him crazy with his tongue and he really really wants to just--

“Soonyoung--”

Soonyoung hums around him in response and it’s the last straw for Wonwoo; he falls apart, back arched and stretched taut, head falling back and eyes wrenching shut. It takes him awhile to get over this one; he doesn’t even notice Soonyoung collapsing into the tiny space beside him on the couch, arms snaking around his waist to cuddle him from behind. Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but Soonyoung presses his lips to his first, the fingers around Wonwoo flirting with the hem of his shirt.

“Mmph,” Wonwoo says, fully intending to communicate his frustration about Soonyoung interrupting his reading time, but Soonyoung’s mouth opens against his to nip playfully at his bottom lip and Wonwoo can’t help but sigh and smile. He reaches out, instead, to draw the windows closed, before turning around.

“My turn.”


End file.
